


A Birthday to Remember

by Persiflage



Series: Bondkink Fics [57]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, First Time, Four Panties Fic, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Romance, Sex on a Car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond takes M out to celebrate her birthday - and she gets a birthday to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Birthday to Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/gifts), [Wolfsbride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/gifts).



> Written for the bondkink comm on LJ, this is a good year late, and no doubt the original request has been forgotten, but hey, better late than never!  
> The prompt was _Whether it's over the hood, in the back seat or M wanking Bond off as he drives, I'm now in the mood for deliciously smutty car sex. Because the only thing 007 loves as much as M and martinis and getting paid to punch people is his car._  
>  No Spoilers (set between QoS and Skyfall).  
>  **Disclaimer** : Alas, none of this is mine (except the vividly pornographic imagination!)

"Where are we going?" M asks 007 as he drives at speed out of London.

"You'll see."

This is the second time she's asked him, and the second time he's given her a less-than-satisfactory answer. She has her suspicions about what he's up to: it's her birthday, and although she hasn't mentioned it at work, it wouldn't surprise her to discover Bond's found out, after all, he found out her name and where she lived. And he'd turned up at Six just as she was about to go home, after being suspiciously absent all day. Still, she says nothing – if he doesn't already know it's her birthday, then she's not going to tell him. It's a pleasant late-September evening, and she didn't have any plans, so if her favourite agent (not that she'd dream of telling him that he is) wants to take her for a drive, then she's not going to complain.

007-007-007

M's suspicions prove to be well-founded, as she discovers when Bond pulls up outside an expensive restaurant and leads her inside for a lavish meal, accompanied by champagne. She considers the latter an extravagance, but suspects that's her post-War-Rationing-influenced childhood speaking, so she keeps quiet, and lets Bond wine and dine her as he's so obviously intent on doing.

It's not until James is paying the bill that it occurs to M that the meal they've just eaten was rather heavy on foods supposed to be aphrodisiacs: oysters, avocados, and saffron. She looks suspiciously at the empty table, then over at her agent as he flirts with the waitress: just what game is James playing tonight, she wonders.

007-007-007

He helps her into the light coat she'd taken off after they arrived at the restaurant, and she wonders if she's imagining the way his fingers seem to lingeringly brush against her skin. She's not imagining the way his breath tickles her neck and ear when he bends his head closer and softly asks if she's had a good time.

"Lovely, thank you James."

"My pleasure," he says, and his blue eyes as well as his smile are sincere.

"I'm not going to ask how you knew it was my birthday today," she observes, and he smirks down at her as he offers her his arm.

"Probably best not to," he agrees, his tone light and teasing.

She allows her hand to 'accidentally' brush against his crotch as he's helping her into the Aston Martin, and she has to force herself not to react when she discovers how hard he is. The thought gives her a thrill: she'd be lying if she said she'd never considered fucking Bond – preferably bent over her desk after she's given him a good spanking for his insubordination. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from moaning at the image she's just conjured up, but she notices the way Bond's looking at her as she settles into the front seat of the car. Suddenly the air seems thick with sexual tension and she wonders if he's going to be bold enough to act on it. She'll be more surprised if he doesn't than if he does, then she wonders if he's waiting for a signal from her that it'd be acceptable. She decides that it'll be more interesting to give him no obvious encouragement to see how far he dares to go without it.

007-007-007

They're about half-way back to London and dusk is settling over the landscape when Bond pulls the car over into a lay-by. She raises a questioning eyebrow and he says, apparently sheepishly, "Sorry, too much to drink tonight. I'll just – " He gestures towards the bushes, and she nods.

As she watches him walk away, she wonders if he really does need to piss, or if it's a ploy – she hopes it's a ploy, or that he'll decide to take advantage anyway. They've been making small talk all the way from the restaurant, but she's been very aware of the underlying tension between them, and the bulge of his cock pressing against the front of his suit trousers. Rapidly reaching a decision, she gets out of the car and moves to lean against the bonnet, looking up at the darkening sky to see if there are any stars visible yet.

James comes alongside her a few moments later. "Everything all right?" he asks, moving to stand in front of her.

"Just admiring the view," she says, then drops her gaze very deliberately to his crotch. She glances back up and licks her lips equally as deliberately, and hears the catch in his breathing with a small smirk of satisfaction.

"M." He pauses and licks his own lips. "Olivia – " 

"Yes, James?" She pitches her voice low.

"I – I have something else for your birthday – that is, if you'll let me – " He breaks off, clearly still uncertain of whether or not he has permission for what he wants.

She leans forward and grabs hold of his tie, and tugs him forward, then reaches up with her free hand and holds the back of his neck.

"Kiss me, James," she orders, her tone stern.

"Fuck!" he whispers, then his mouth is on hers and his tongue sliding between her lips a moment later.

He's a good kisser, but then he ought to be, the number of women he's had to seduce in the line of work. He shuffles forward as they kiss and wraps his arms around her so that her stiffening nipples are pressing against his shirt-covered chest. He moans into her mouth, and she shifts so that her sex is pressing against his swollen cock, and his second moan is louder.

She reaches down and unfastens his trousers, then slips her hand through the opening to stroke his cock, and he jerks against her, startling her into a soft chuckle.

"Oh dear," she says. "Are you that desperate to fuck an old woman like me, James?"

"You're not old," he tells her, his tone insistent. "And I've been desperate to fuck you since I was sixteen years old, when you recruited me."

"Then you've shown admirable restraint to wait until now," she observes. "But I don't think you should restrain yourself any longer."

"Do you mean it?" he asks, his tone urgent now.

"Of course I do, James. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"Oh god!" He kisses her again, almost frantically, as she strokes his cock, then she eases it free of his trousers, and he breaks off his kiss in order to begin hiking her dress up.

"Hang on a second," she says, and puts a hand to his chest, pushing him backwards. "Let's make this a bit easier."

He takes a step back, and she pulls her dress up for him, glad that the weather has been warm, and that the car bonnet's not too chilly.

"Fuck!" James' exclamation when he catches sight of her frilly black knickers is very gratifying, and she smirks in the darkness.

"Have you got some lube?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because you're going to need it. Post-menopausal women don't easily get wet like young women."

"Oh." She wonders if that piece of information has put him off, but he says, "Hang on," and she hears him moving around the car and opening the passenger door, before he returns.

"It was in the glove compartment," he tells her, and she rolls her eyes, unseen.

"Good. Now get my knickers off, James."

He groans quietly, and she chuckles as she leans her weight on her arms while he eases her underwear down her legs. She hears him uncap the lube, and then his fingers are on her sex, and it's her turn to groan as he eases one slick finger inside her and begins to stroke her.

His long fingers are quick and dextrous, and it doesn't take him very long to bring her to an orgasm which makes her want to cry out, but she muffles the noise. He kisses her as he strokes her through the aftershocks, and she's surprised by how tender his kisses are – she'd expected more hunger now he's so close to actually fucking her.

"Will you lube me up, please?" he asks once they're ready to continue. 

"I'd like that." She takes the tube from him and squeezes some into her right hand, then grasps the base of his cock with her left hand while she slicks him up. He's clasping her shoulders as she prepares him, and she feels his grip tighten, and wonders how close he is to coming. She hopes he's not too close because she wants him inside her and fucking her for more than two minutes.

She let's go of his cock, and feels his arms brush against hers as he leans forward on the car, then she moans softly as he guides the head of his cock into her.

"All right?" he asks, his voice low and anxious.

"Don't you dare stop, James Bond," she tells him sternly, and hears him swear quietly. Apparently he likes her being stern with him, and she tucks that thought away for further consideration later on.

He kisses her, quick and hard, then pushes his cock deeper inside her sex and she finds herself clutching his shoulders as he begins to thrust. She'd half expected him to go hell for leather, but it appears he's not that desperate, which pleases her. 

"Christ, Olivia!" he mutters. "You feel so good, so tight." 

"You – " She can't finish her sentence because his fingers are on her clit now, and he's driving her closer and closer to a second orgasm. She buries her face in his shoulder as her muscles convulse around his cock, and he pauses in his thrusts while she climaxes. Her sex is still quaking when he resumes, his speed picking up now, and she wraps her legs around his thighs as he plunges deeper inside her. 

"You feel pretty damn good yourself, mister," she tells him once she's caught her breath again.

He grunts and she senses he's getting close to his own climax now. "Can I – ?"

"Can you what?"

"Come inside you?"

"Yes." She drops her hands from his shoulders to his arse, pulling him more firmly towards her, and he lets out a muffled cry; she can feel his cock pulsing inside her and she squeezes her muscles around him, making him swear vigorously as she milks every last drop from him.

"Fuck! Christ!" he exclaims, then kisses her deeply. "Happy birthday, Olivia."

"Thank you, James." 

They stay where they are for a few minutes, trading leisurely kisses, until she feels his cock softening, then he eases his body away from hers, before delving into a pocket and removing a packet of tissues.

This makes her laugh, until he asks what's wrong in a very tense voice, and she subdues her laughter long enough to say, "You've just fucked me rather roughly – but very deliciously – on the bonnet of your car, and now you're being so gentlemanly as to get out a packet of tissues with which to clean me up. The contrast amused me. I wasn't laughing at you." 

"Good." He wipes his semen from her thighs, then passes her knickers back to her; she hadn't realised he'd pocketed them earlier. He has to help her into them since her legs have gone a bit wobbly, then he straightens her dress, and walks her around to the passenger door, which he opens for her. 

She stands on tiptoe and kisses him quickly on the mouth, then says, "I hope you don't have any other plans for tonight, James?"

"No." 

She can hear the curiosity in his voice, and elaborates. "I think you should stay for a nightcap, at the very least."

"I'd be delighted to, Olivia."

"Good." 

She got into the car, and he shut the door, then got into the driver's seat, and she settled into her seat with a silent moan of appreciation. True, she was a little sore, but it was worth it – she'd been well and truly fucked, and in such a delightful fashion. She knew that she and James would have to be very careful to keep this quiet, but she had absolutely no intention of letting this be a one-off: it's two years since her husband died, and four since James lost Vesper, and while she knows he's been with other women since in the line of work, she doesn't believe he's had an actual relationship in the interim, and she definitely hasn't had another man in her bed, but right now, that's exactly where she intends to have James. 

_Happy birthday to me, indeed,_ she thinks with a smirk.


End file.
